I know it’s not easy for you but you chose a complicated woman who has kept the doors to her past open. She never really chose to close it coz looking back at what lay inside that door gives her a certain kind of comfort. She has kept those brittle bones safely, never thrashing or trampling over them as she loves to believe that maybe someday she would turn back only to try to resurrect them.
And then you happened, and she thought maybe it was time she close it. You asked her for the keys but she chose to keep it close, in her breast pocket. The weight of the keys were a strange comfort, for they reminded her of the weight she has been carrying in her heart for so long she is used to that throbbing pain in her chest. The pain that now has assimilated itself in every cell alive inside her.
She has come a long way owing to your presence but despite your numerous assurances she can’t help but wonder getting lost in your absence.